


We Are Made One With What We Touch

by LadyMerlin



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Androids, Artificial Intelligence, Attempts at Basic Scientific Legitimacy have been made, Available in Chinese, AvengersRemixRoundTwo, Comic Book Science, Graphic Descriptions of Sex, M/M, Masculine/Male!Jarvis, Other, Robot Sex, Romance, Suspension of Disbelief Required, Telepathic Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 09:30:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1261384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMerlin/pseuds/LadyMerlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony already knows there's a connection between him and JARVIS. Now it's a matter of seeing how deep it runs, for SCIENCE! </p><p>At least, that's what they tell themselves.</p><p>This fic is now available in Chinese <a href="http://www.mtslash.com/forum.php?mod=viewthread&tid=128541&page=1#pid2432109">HERE</a>, by Ali :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Are Made One With What We Touch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jaune_Chat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaune_Chat/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Beautiful Minds](https://archiveofourown.org/works/487026) by [Jaune_Chat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaune_Chat/pseuds/Jaune_Chat). 



> The title is from an Oscar Wilde poem of the same name. 
> 
> This was written for the Avengers Remix Round 2 on LJ. I have remixed Jaune_Chat's [Beautiful Minds](http://archiveofourown.org/works/487026).

“Sir, if you would please make your way up to Lab 9, there is something that requires your attention.”

Tony blinked and looked up at the ceiling in consternation. Lab 9 was one he’d assigned to JARVIS for independent use. There had been a long debate about whether it was worth setting aside private space for an Intelligence that was modelled for the most part on Tony’s own brainwaves, but Tony had got his own way in the end (he always did). Besides, JARVIS functioned independently of Tony, even if they had a preternatural understanding of each other. It hardly mattered whether JARVIS was artificial or organic in origin; it was only right to afford him the opportunity to explore his interests, like Tony would any other scientific mind he respected. JARVIS was so much more than that, anyway.

“Anything urgent, J?” he asked, putting his fork down even as he spoke, wiping his hands on his jeans before Steve could pass him a serviette.

“No, Sir. Simply something that requires your attention.” It wasn’t like JARVIS to repeat himself, but they were still getting used to the fact that they didn’t live alone in the Stark Tower anymore. Sharing living space was at once both surprisingly easy, and also incredibly challenging. Big things like overcrowding or invasions of privacy weren’t as much of an issue as they’d expected. It was the little things, like putting the ketchup bottle in the fridge instead of leaving it in a cupboard that drove people crazy.

“Don’t interrupt me in Lab 9,” he said, because while Steve asked permission to lie around in his labs for company, Clint had a bad habit of sneaking around in the ventilation system, and the least he could do was ensure that JARVIS’ privacy was respected. “I’m not kidding. It’s for volatile and top secret. If you fuck around with Lab 9, you deal with Pepper,” he warned, because it was true. Everyone at the breakfast table shivered, slightly, so he knew he’d made his point and left without further ado.

He waited until he was at the door of the labs to speak. “What’s up, J?” he asked, because he’d had JARVIS around for more than half his life. He hadn’t been imagining the tension in J’s voice.

“Permission to activate lockdown procedures?” JARVIS asked, instead.

“Granted, of course. You’re freaking me out, J.” He walked through the open doors and did not worry when they slid shut behind him. He trusted JARVIS more than he trusted himself, most days.

There was a series of noises indicating that both electronic and physical locks had been put in place, before JARVIS spoke again. “Sir, you are aware of recent developments in the medical field regarding skin grafts for burn victims?”

And while it wasn’t actually Tony’s speciality, it was one of Bruce’s pet projects, so he’d endured many, _many_ rants on the subject. “You know I am, J.” Tony waited for JARVIS to get to the point.

“Well, Sir, I’ve been working on a similar project, and I believe I have succeeded in creating a synthetic dermis which can function as a skin substitute much more effectively than the synthetic skin which is currently on the market.” It took a minute to parse this, but the moment Tony did, he had to lean against the nearest countertop because pride was fizzing up like effervescence in his belly, like he was going to float away from the headiness of it all, and _pop_ like an over-blown balloon.

JARVIS had passed the Turing test almost immediately after Tony’d finished coding him, but this was something completely different. This was JARVIS pioneering research, independently. This was JARVIS being better at something than even his own creator. He would have compared it to the way a parent felt about a brilliant child, but his feelings towards JARVIS were far from paternal.

“ _J,_ ” he gasped out, when he could find the words. “Holy shit, J.” They weren’t great words, but he was pretty sure they’d be enough.

“Thank you, Sir.” JARVIS sounded flustered, and because Tony knew him so well, he could tell JARVIS also sounded surprised at himself for being flustered. “But if I may, there is something else. I have attempted to create a synthetic neurological system along with the skin, to allow for a wider range of application in the medical field.”

Tony’s brain was whirring again, accelerating from resting state until he could make the same logical leaps as JARVIS was making. “Do you mean to say that it can feel?” It was a hideously inaccurate statement, but in a discussion between an artificial intelligence and an engineer who didn’t know the right technical terms, accuracy was bound to take a hit.

JARVIS hesitated. “That is the crux of the matter, Sir. I have attempted to determine, through some small-scale testing, whether the sensory functions of the epidermal layer are intact, but as you well know, I am unsure whether—”

Tony cut him off before JARVIS had to struggle to complete the sentence in a way which made sense. Because he got it. “J, I’m presuming you remember that headband?” he asked. It wasn’t a real question – of course JARVIS had _that_ headband.

“Yes,” JARVIS replied, relieved, “Yes, Sir, I do. I am afraid the sensations experienced by the dermis are incomprehensible – I do not know whether I am experiencing what I should be experiencing, as I am a somewhat anomalous test subject.”

Tony scoffed, even as his face heated at the memory of the last time he’d put on the headband. “You’re not anomalous, J. You’re one of a kind.”

“You’re very kind, Sir,” JARVIS responded, and it should have sounded catty. It didn’t.

“Right, do you have the headband up here?” he asked, because JARVIS would have planned well in advance for asking a question like this.

“Yes, Sir,” JARVIS replied again, words familiar, but tone as changing as ever. He sounded impossibly fond of Tony.

“And might I ask how you’re planning on testing the skin thingy?”

JARVIS hesitated, but Tony didn’t push for an answer. “Sir, I have taken some liberties.” He sounded worried, again.

Tony rolled his eyes. “J, _mi casa e su casa_ , remember? You and I, we’re on the same team. What are you worried about?” Jarvis had been with him for more than two decades, and he still worried about taking liberties more than Clint fucking Barton, who’d been around for scant months.

“Sir, I’ve utilized one of the older models of the Iron Man Armour, Mark XI, for my experiment. It is not damaged in anyway, or even modified irreparably.”

Tony rolled his eyes again. “J, I hardly use the older models, anyway. They were just going to sit around in the basement in Malibu. I’m glad you got some use out of the thing.”

JARVIS didn’t respond.

Tony paused. “What exactly did you do to it, anyway?”

“If you would please move away from the cupboard, sir, I will bring out Mark XI so you may see the changes for yourself.” JARVIS left a meaningful silence in the wake of his statement, disturbed only by the tell-tale sounds of an older suit slowly powering up.

Tony pushed himself up to sit on a clear countertop and lowered the headband onto his head. His memories of their last experiment were still vivid. He hadn’t spoken to JARVIS about it, but that was mostly because he hadn’t been able to find the words. And because it was JARVIS. He was practically an extension of Tony’s mind, if not the other half of his soul. Whatever he had to say, JARVIS knew.

A cabinet door slid to one side, and Mark XI walked out to stand in front of Tony. It looked much the same as it always did, when J was piloting the suit. Only the gauntlets were almost unrecognizable, with the repulsors gone, and the surface of the palm covered in a thin, almost translucent layer of skin.

It had clearly been applied as best as possible without the use of a specialized synthesizing unit, or an extra set of helping hands. JARVIS was a marvel to have managed all this on his own, without Tony’s help.

Tony started to reach out, to touch, but JARVIS interrupted him. “Sir, if you would turn on the helmet first, please. To preserve experimental conditions,” he hastened to explain, but he needn’t have bothered. Tony understood science. He was pretty sure this was leading to more than just science, but there was no reason science and… _something else_ (whatever it was) couldn’t co-exist on the same plane, at the same time.

He flicked the small switch on the side of the still-clumsy headband (he needed to refine the thing), and focused really hard on what it had felt like last time. Like all things, it was easier the second time round. The unmistakable sensation filled his mind like water filling an empty basin, cool, and all-encompassing.

He didn’t think of the equation, because he wasn’t the one controlling the suit, this time. He pushed a thought at JARVIS: _Can you hear-feel me?_

 _Yes, Tony_ , JARVIS responded, and _that_ never got old. He felt a sizzle of heat under his skin at the way JARVIS thought his name. JARVIS didn’t call him anything but “Sir” in public, and for a range of reasons. This was new, and he found he wanted to keep this between them, to keep it safe, and secret.

He didn’t have to worry that JARVIS would misunderstand his possessiveness for shame; J knew him. He felt an answering flash of golden yellow; affection and warmth.

“Shall we get this started, J?” He asked out loud, because he was likely to get lost in the maelstrom of colour and thoughts in his head, and speaking out loud appeared to be one way of keeping his focus. JARVIS’ mind was fascinating, and Tony wanted to spend _days_ in there, just experiencing the way he worked. It was one thing to have programmed a computer. It was another thing to watch another equal _intelligence_ function.

“Of course, Tony,” JARVIS responded, and Tony grinned, hoping J received his own impressions.

 _I am reading you loud and clear, Tony_ , J said, as if assuaging his doubts.

“Good,” Tony said, and then: “Touch me, J.”

The Mark XI advanced slightly, heavy boots shuffling slightly. One gauntlet reached towards him, with a single finger outstretched, and stroked Tony’s cheek, soft skin rasping against day-old stubble.

Several things happened at once: JARVIS felt _touch_ for the first time since his creation. Tony felt JARVIS feeling _touch_ for the first time in his existence. JARVIS felt Tony feel him experiencing _touch_ for the first time, and so on, like some sort of infinite feedback loop of sensation. Tony gasped and jerked back, and so did J’s gauntlet, as hesitant as a hydraulic arm could be.

Tony’s heart started beating fast, and his mind was spinning with the possibilities. Normally, physical contact with another human being only led to one set of sensory input. When JARVIS touched him, they both experienced a double sensory input, both from the physical contact, and the mental feedback.

If Tony could have abided by scientific inaccuracy, he’d have called it an _electric_ sensation.

 _Touch me again, J_.

JARVIS did, the Mark XI gingerly placing it’s entire palm flat against Tony’s cheek, impossibly gentle and precise. Tony didn’t feel any pressure, but the synthetic skin was warm from the circuitry humming beneath it in the gauntlet, and he pressed himself into the slightly cupped palm, pretending that it really was JARVIS, and not a suit connected to JARVIS. It was almost the same thing, but not quite.

 _I wish for the same_ , JARVIS said, almost sounding melancholy. _Perhaps one day, if you don’t mind, we can—_

JARVIS didn’t even have to complete that thought. The flash of rust-bloodstain- _longing_ came across loud and clear, and god, _yes_. _Yes, JARVIS, yes, any day you like. I’ve always wondered what it would be like, if you could actually pin me against the wall to stop me from doing stupid things._

 _If I might be so bold, Tony, I propose pinning you against the wall for other purposes_ , J said, low and heated, and flashing _scarlet_ with the metaphysical sort of heat.

Tony’s body was singing in response, and ~~the Suit~~ JARVIS had started stroking hot ~~gauntlets~~ hands down his sides, rucking up his thin tank top and exposing his overheating skin to the cool air of the workshop. The feedback loop was almost continuous, and it became impossible to distinguish between thoughts and sensations; Tony didn’t know which spark of feeling was his own, and which one came from JARVIS.

It was _glorious_.

 _Tony_ , J spoke, and Tony waited for a continuation of the sentence, but it was like JARVIS had said his name for the sake of it, because Tony could tell J liked the way it sounded. Tony liked the way Jarvis said his name, too, he wanted to hear it more, wanted to hear it all the time. He moaned in response, not sure whether the broken sound was actually being produced by his larynx, or whether it was all in his head – in _their_ heads.

It was confusing, because Tony was used to having sex with people, and he wanted to kiss, and lick, and touch back. But J wouldn’t have been able to feel it, and it would have felt too much like playing with an inanimate object if he kissed the Suit. Even though he knew it was JARVIS, and not _just_ a suit.

JARVIS’ summer-gold-fond-amusement in his head made Tony _tingle_ with pleasure and pride. He dislodged the gauntlets, still stroking his arms, yanked the tank top off, and began shucking his trousers before he sensed JARVIS’ hesitation.

 _Sir_ , JARVIS started, but Tony cut him off before he could get any further.

“No ‘sirring’, J. Not now.” He repeated the statement mentally, to make his point.

 _Tony_ , JARVIS started again, and then paused. _Are you sure?_ It was a question that applied to more than one issue.

 _I’m as sure as I’ve ever been_ , he thought back, and sent an image, a vision, of himself bent over a workbench, with a thick, gauntlet finger deep inside him, tight and hot and _intense_ —

JARVIS gasped out loud, and Tony had _never_ heard anything so erotic in his _life_ , as that slip of iron control. He grinned. _Can we do that?_ JARVIS asked, and Tony sent back heat-lust-red- _fire_ -want, and he knew the message had been received when JARVIS stepped closer and pressed the suit against his body.

In the quiet, the only sound was Tony’s harsh breathing, and when JARVIS brought one thumb between them to swipe across Tony’s nipple, his own gasp was loud in his own ears. “J,” he whispered, pressing his forehead into the cool metal of the suit’s neck. It was awkward, and far from what he wanted. But he couldn’t make himself look at the suit’s face, because that wasn’t JARVIS. He couldn’t make himself kiss the suit, because it _wasn’t. JARVIS._

 _I know, Tony_ , JARVIS whispered back, soothing him with dark greens and calming blues and pale pink promises.

J dragged a thumb across his nipple again, and it sent bolts of pleasure into Tony’s belly. He made an inelegant, embarrassing noise when Jarvis wrapped the fingers of the gauntlet around his cock. It was an incredible sensation, because the skin was realistic, but there was no hiding the unforgiving metal beneath it. And it was so easy to forget that the suit was a two tonne piece of heavy machinery that could _crush_ him like an ant. And Tony was letting it access the softest, most vulnerable parts of his body, as a proxy for JARVIS.

 _You feel… You’re so warm_ , JARVIS thought at him, and it sounded like wonder in his voice, and Tony thought how it must feel for the AI, who had never felt physical _heat_ before. His mind was a constantly flashing whirlpool of colours, of reds and oranges and yellows, shades of fire and lust and wanting.

JARVIS was mirroring him, or he was mirroring JARVIS, or they were sharing the sensations, the feelings. The emotions. JARVIS was learning to connect the physical with the mental, using Tony as a conduit for the two. It was incredible, and unbelievable, but he could feel it happening, JARVIS making rapid connections between sensory input from his hands and the other input, from Tony’s mind.

 _J, please touch me_ , Tony begged, because honestly he hardly had any shame left anyway, and this was _JARVIS_ , who’d seen him at his worst and who still loved him like… like he was something essential, beyond a friend, or a brother, or a creator.

 _Where should I start, Tony?_ JARVIS asked, and stroked down his back, one gauntlet dropping to squeeze his ass and the other gently fondling his balls. It should have been a blatantly sexual touch, a deliberate, daring grope, but JARVIS’ touch was curious and exploratory. He was touching the warmest, softest parts of Tony, parts he’d never seen before. This was a type of intimacy that was new, even for Tony.

 _You feel like luxury, Tony_ , JARVIS thought, distracted, like he hadn’t intended the thought to come through. There was a flash of mottled purple embarrassment, but Tony tried to transmit what it felt like on _his_ side, to have JARVIS’ _hands_ on him, heavy and wanting and intent, and J went silent, really quickly. _May I—_

The image-thought got to Tony before the words did, and he nodded shakily, and did _not_ whimper when JARVIS let go of his cock. _Do you have any lubricant up here?_

 _Yes, of course,_ JARVIS started, but then seemed to realise what Tony meant when he said _lubricant_. _Oh, no, Tony, I do not have—_

 _Do you have workshop oil?_ Tony asked, because he knew it wasn’t the smartest thing, but if he had to leave the workshop to get lube, he’d probably pass out from a lack of blood in his brain.

The Suit rummaged through a drawer, as hesitant and _human_ as he’d ever seen it. There was no residue of hydraulic confidence in the metallic joints, and JARVIS’ thoughts were as shattered and fragmented as his own. _Do you know how to do this?_

 _I have—_ JARVIS sounded unsure— _I have conducted some rudimentary research but was unable to verify the accuracy—_

_Good instinct, J, porn’s a pretty shit indicator of what sex is supposed to be like._

There was a beat of silence when JARVIS found a small bottle of purified workshop oil, meant for the most delicate bits of machines, in a small squeezy bottle. _Are we having sex_? JARVIS asked, gentle, and more collected than before, but still tentative.

“Well, yeah,” Tony said out loud, surprised that it hadn’t been obvious. _I’m enjoying myself with you touching me. Are you enjoying yourself, touching me?_

_Yes, but—_

_Well yeah, then we’re having sex. Doesn’t matter what we do, J, you hardly need a penis for—_

_Understood_ , JARVIS said, and Tony _knew_ it was because he hadn’t wanted Tony to complete that sentence. He laughed out loud, breaking the subtle hum of tension he’d been getting from J, because yeah, that was pretty typical of JARVIS.

 _Take it slow, J,_ he thought, draping himself comfortably over a clean-ish countertop. _Feel what I’m feeling, and go for what feels good, but go slowly. It’s been a while. _

JARVIS didn’t answer, but there was the sound of a viscous liquid being poured out of its container, and then the touch of a blunt, solid finger at his hole. Tony gasped like there wasn’t enough air in the room, because a gauntlet finger was almost three times the size of a regular finger, and this was _JARVIS_. “Tony,” JARVIS breathed aloud, echoing in the empty room, and pushed into him, agonizingly slow. The oil was effective, slick and viscous, but the sensation was indescribable.

The stretch _burned_ and Tony arched, without knowing whether he was arching into it or arching away. A second gauntlet, pressed into the curve of his ass kept him still, fingers digging into his skin, and he felt JARVIS’ tension in his mind. He exhaled deeply, and relaxed, deliberately. The tension eased somewhat, and so did the grip on his ass, even though he didn’t want it to. Jarvis squeezed, as if to apologize, and Tony grinned, sending over another thought.

JARVIS immediately reached around his front and wrapped fingers around his cock. Tony propped himself up on the countertop with one arm, and wrapped his other hand around the gauntlet on his cock.

Then JARVIS began moving, both gauntlets at the same time. The finger pressed deeper into him, unyielding and completely alien, not even pretending to be organic. There was no grace in the way it sent shocks of pleasure-pain rolling through Tony’s body, even though every movement was no doubt calculated with the utmost precision.

It dragged across his prostate, rough and _hard_ , and Tony yelped in shock, bucking helplessly into the press of the other gauntlet and his own hand. It tightened almost painfully around Tony’s cock, and flashes of sparkling white were searing through his mind. JARVIS was trembling in his own mind, and the colours which had calmed down not minutes before, had all but vanished, brightening to almost a headache inducing luminosity.

JARVIS didn’t stop, because he knew as well as Tony did, how much he liked it. How, through the shock on the surface, something deep inside him was humming like a generator, gathering power, how heat was building up in the pit of his stomach like an energy overload.

 _God, J, please,_ he begged, because he could feel the build-up, but it wasn’t enough to peak, it wasn’t—

JARVIS leaned the Suit down over him, pressing the chest plate into his back, effectively pinning him down. Tony whimpered. There was no way he’d have been able to escape, even if he’d wanted to. The lust ratcheted up a notch, and he wasn’t sure if it was his or J’s.

JARVIS, fast learner that he was, dragged the finger out of him, crooked in just the right way to make him really _feel_ it, and fucked back in. It was like being fucked with a metal dildo, more than a penis, and instead of bending with the curve of his body, it forced Tony to straighten, to accommodate the intrusion. Hot pleasure erupted down his spine and his toes curled, pressed against the cold floor. Tony whined, because he couldn’t even buck into their joint fists again, and it wasn’t enough. JARVIS flashed amusement at him, but didn’t say anything.

He fucked Tony again, but pumped his cock at the same time, and that was it, that was _perfect_ , the heated, scratchy drag of mostly dry synthetic skin on his cock, moistened only by pre-cum, and another finger, pressed deep into him, hot and solid, and _perfect_. JARVIS felt it as much as he did, and he didn’t stop. He did it again, and again, and _again_.

The heat and the pleasure started building up, each new shock of sensation wracking his body before the previous one had completely faded. He was dripping copiously, and the sound of slick skin against skin was obscene, and gorgeous. He was being fucked, and fucking at the same time, and the heavy weight of JARVIS on his back was grounding, even as it sent him further and higher into the throes of his own pleasure. He was _sure_ JARVIS was enjoying it too, because his rhythm was faltering, and their pleasure was indistinguishable.

His feelings were magnified, building up, and even though JARVIS didn’t have the necessary sensors to process pleasure (or any other physical sensation), he had the capacity to detect heat, and pressure, and pulse, and he had the knowledge to know what it meant, and he had Tony in his head, being noisy enough for the both of them.

The mask of the suit pressed into the sweaty curve of his neck, and Tony didn’t even jump at the cold. He was more than distracted by the double assault on his body and mind. But when JARVIS whispered, both aloud and into his head, _I want to kiss you_ , it was the tipping point.

Tony came explosively, gasping for air as his heart threatened to push the arc reactor out of the way and pound out of his chest, his eyes squeezed tight. JARVIS pumped him through it, carrying on even though Tony’s own fingers were trembling and twitching, until he was mewling for mercy, with his face pressed into the countertop, unsure whether the moisture on his face was tears or sweat.

Tony knew what oversensitivity felt like, and he knew it could be just as pleasurable as it was painful. But JARVIS had no such experience, and gasped as the agonizingly sharp sensation translated through their link, and Tony’s cock twitched limply in their now-wet hands. “ _Tony_ ,” JARVIS gasped, as shaken as he’d ever heard him.

Tony huffed a laugh, but didn’t move. He stayed still, draped limply on the countertop until his heart stopped racing.

JARVIS’ thoughts were no longer verbal, but pure flashes of sensation and colour. Tony watched the quicksilver thoughts flitting around his beautiful mind, like dragonflies on a pond, shimmering and colourful. The chaos calmed, slowly, gradually into stillness, still disorganised but less shattered.

“Is it always like that?” JARVIS asked, after several long, quiet moments. Tony didn’t worry that he’d not liked it, because he’d felt J’s pleasure himself.

“Chaotic?” He asked instead, considering his response seriously. He wondered how JARVIS would respond if he sucked the gauntlet fingers that were now covered in come

JARVIS affirmed his choice of words, mentally, and inside Tony, a finger twitched in response to the silent thought, making Tony hiss.

“Pretty much, yeah.”

There was another long, peaceful silence. There was nothing uncomfortable about it. JARVIS was thinking, and Tony was thinking, and occasionally they were transferring thoughts at each other, pretty much like they did on a daily basis without the mental link.

“J?” Tony started, and waited for JARVIS to pause his stream of thought before continuing. “Could you add something to our to-do list?”

JARVIS transmitted a flash of amusement at him, having read Tony’s mind before he’d even articulated his thought. _I’ll put down “Build an Android” for next Tuesday, shall I?_ J’s dry humour came across, loud and clear.

Tony laughed out loud.  _It’s a date, J._


End file.
